


His Kinsman

by hi_Avery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gramander, Newt is worried, Other, Past - Thesival, Percival doesn't know wtf is happening, Present - Gramander, Royalty AU, Theseus with a side of salt, alternative universe, overprotective brother trying not to be overprotective, royals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_Avery/pseuds/hi_Avery
Summary: Newt was far too young to rule a kingdom on his own at what the elders considered age of the crown - seventeen. Three years prior, he was distanced from his brother whom he was considerably close with - a decision that saddened him to no end. On his coronation day, he learns that Theseus is not only his general of the cavalry, but also the same man whom suitors must duel either to death, or to forfeiture.Everything changes when a king from another kingdom comes for his brother - a king who goes by the name of Percival Graves.





	1. Unacceptable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acciogramander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciogramander/gifts).



> It's an old idea that I wanted to try out - we'll see how it goes :'D
> 
> \---
> 
> for one part of the fic, NO, Theseus and Percival did not do... the thing... just light fluffy things but not ... the thing...

"Theseus?" Newt's soft voice rang out in the single room of one of the castle's spires. It had been his brother's favorite place to think even when they were children - when innocence was abundant but surely, the rules of their kingdom and the policies of the elders would take that from them as well.

"Theseus? Brother?" He calls again, sighing softly in relief when he sees his brother's stoic figure looking out the spire window. He walks towards him, only stopping midway when his brother spoke in a tone he had never heard him speak in before.

"This is blasphemy."

He furrows his brows, not quite sure as to what he meant or which he was talking about. He eyes him carefully, studying the features he thought he was familiar with but that was in the past. His brother's shoulder had gotten broader, more scars had appeared on his skin accompanying the same splatter of freckles. He was far too older looking than the age he was which was twenty-six. It had been five years since Newt's coronation and Theseus had been there with him every step of the way - as his general, his advisor, and as his brother - his right hand. He takes a step forward, and before he takes another, Theseus turns to face him - an expression of anger and distraught mixed and strewn across his face. Newt was suddenly overcome with a wave of fear and anxiety.

"W-what... what is, brother?" He asks quietly.

"I'm going to duel a king, Newt," he says seriously, one hand subconsciously resting on his left shoulder where a rather large scar left by the previous king who dueled him for his brother's hand.

Newt pales considerably, making small hand gestures as he talks and moving forward to his brother, "Thess, I... You can't... you can't do this anymore - you're twenty-six and you're already worn out."

Theseus knows that - he knew what he was getting himself into the moment he turned seventeen. But he's more mad about the fact that he knows the king and the king knew him - _personally_.

"You expect me to let this man take your hand in marriage?"

"N-no! That's not what I-"

"He will _not_ do as such. You will not be married to him," he cuts him off, his voice with an edge this time. Whether or not that edge was dangerously sharp was up for Newt to figure it out himself for Theseus made his way back to the window, gaze far, sea foam green eyes dark with whatever emotion it was, Newt couldn't decipher.

"I won't let him take you from me," he growls quietly. Newt is worried of course. Theseus had always been protective - though unadmittedly it went a bit too far at most times - but now it was just too much. Who was the king his brother spoke of, and why is he so keen on not letting the anonymous man from marrying him? Although Theseus had been doing so for the past six years, this was the first time Newt had seem him so... angered. Once he had recovered from his brother's snap, he gingerly places a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it to relieve him of the tension.

"Theseus, no one is asking you to do this," he starts softly.

"The elders and their policies and traditions say otherwise, dear brother. I am obligated to do so," he counters, the hardened expression he displayed earlier had dissolved into a softer one - a more worried but apologetic one. He straightens up to wrap his arms around his brother protectively, "I promise I'll be fine this time. I just can't let you be carried off by this one."

As per tradition, the elders would welcome the suitor into the kingdom to acquaint themselves with the culture of the land. As for requirements, Newt would remain in the castle, and Theseus, would be forced to accompany the suitor as they roam the land. He couldn't help but glare in the king's way every time he could look him in the eye. He hated the man with a burning passion - King Percival of the Graves' Family. Why was a reason not many knew of - the elders and the king's kinsmen knew of this. But Theseus had dared anyone who threatened to tell Newt or anyone else of the incident eight years ago.

 

* * *

 

Theseus was sent out for training with the older general of the cavalry and they were already out for a year - Theseus was eighteen and Newt would be crowned in two years time. He finds himself in the castle of the Graves when his trainer had brought him along to acquaint him with an older friend. He had met Percival there and their acquaintance soon turned into a friendship as it took more time for Theseus to train. At least two months prior the coronation of his brother a certain evening took place. 

Theseus vows that if Percival were to come a step nearer his brother in the future, he would end him right on the spot.

 

* * *

 

It was now the fifth day of the time Percival would stay in the kingdom - the same day he would meet Newt. The mere idea of it has Theseus seething but he has enough will power to keep himself from tearing him apart. 

"King Percival - his Majesty of the Family of Graves!" A voice announced. Newt looks to Theseus from where he was - he looked scared and nervous. Theseus could only give him a reassuring smile, nodding slightly before he turns his attention to the ancient wooden doors that opened to present the man in robes. He uses most of his will power to not even try to frown deeply at him as he walks toward his brother. Percival on the other hand, was completely smitten at first sight. Newt was...  _beautiful_ \- his light look, the way his cinnamon fringe waved, turned, curled and folded one way and does so in another - he was simply entrancing in the eyes of the king. Newt on the other hand, had his worries melted away by the fact that the king was certainly handsome and he looked dauntless. The traditions took place - Newt was left with Percival (alone, much to Theseus' dismay) for acquainting themselves with each other.

Outside, Theseus was in the garden in a clearing, swinging his sword at the wooden poles with terrifying speed and power. He was the best and most fearless warrior their kingdom had. With his emotions out of line, he was even more intimidating. A grave expression painted onto his face as he hacks at the target - dodging imaginary attacks and continuing to swing. The duel would commence the day after tomorrow. Inside, Newt and Percival have decided that they were in fact - perfect for each other. Newt knew he loves Percival - his mind suddenly focused on the man and the man himself. The same went for the older man as he kissed Newt's knuckles as a promise that he would love no one else.

Another day for the two to spend time with each other. Newt and Percival roamed the castle grounds, sometimes taking a rest in the garden, sitting on the stone benches and talking in quiet voices. Newt would giggle sometimes, Percival would chuckle. Fleeting smiles and pink cheeks at times. Wherever they were, Theseus would avoid them - it's not that he couldn't stand their sweetness. He would avoid them for his brother's sake.

 

* * *

 

 

It was evening of the sixth day of Percival's stay. As the elders said, the general must now confer with the prince to find out his plans. And so, Theseus finds himself in front of Newt's door, waiting for him to open it so he can come in because it would be  _inappropriate of him to just go in._ He knocks for what seemed to be the fifth time, and this time, his patience is wearing thin what with the events of the past week, so he opens it slowly.

He finds himself looking at his brother who was staring out the window longingly and his mind just thought of the worst case scenario.  _No, it can't... he can't be..._

"Thess! Sorry, I didn't hear you knock," Newt greets, looking at his brother from where he was. He waves a hand before patting the space in front of him, "Come brother, sit with me."

_He's... happy? He was never happy on the sixth night - why is he..._

"What brings you here, dear brother of mine?" 

"It's the sixth evening, Newton. You must already have memorized it by now as to what happens on the sixth night."

"I don't - Ah! Of course, I remember now. We talk about the suitor, yes?" He asks to confirm with this silly little smile tugging on his lips - it's making Theseus worried even more, but he nods silently to confirm.

"What are your opinions on... on King Graves?"

"Ah... Percival... such a gentleman, really kind and sweet... Have you met him? Oh, brother, you should -"

"I know him Newton. We've met before and you will not know my business with him because the only business I have with him right now, is that he's a suitor and I will know your plans as to what you want me to do tomorrow," he says in a fast manner and doing his best not to get mad with Newt - he doesn't know much about what happened to him when he left the kingdom to train anyway, Theseus shouldn't be mad at him, right? He shouldn't blame Newt for falling for the same man he had fallen for - eight years ago.

_It's in the past, Theseus, this is different!_

"O-oh... I see," Newt murmurs, his excited gaze dying as he lowers his head, a bit ashamed, "I... I-I like him, Thess... a-and I'm pretty sure he does, t-too..."

Theseus realizes his mistake in that reply, and his expression softens considerably as he moves closer to put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Newt... do you... do you really...  _love_ him?"

He nods at him, and he closes his eyes, nodding slowly before the same hand goes up to cup his brother's cheek as he gives him a softer smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his brother's forehead. He stands up from his seat and he takes strides to cross the room, pausing at the door before he gives his brother one last glance, and he exits.

_He loves him_ , he thought to himself as he went to his own room,  _He loves him - just as I did. Now I have to find a way to duel him - without hurting him._


	2. Not His Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And with this loss, I am saddened to tell you dear brother, that banishment is the only thing in return for me. I wish you all the best for the future with Percival... Remember that your older brother will always love you, Artemis, never forget me," Newt's voice softening - quieting - as he finished it, "Your brother... Theseus..."
> 
> "He left?" Percival asks, worried for Newt.
> 
> "It was an order... it was in his orders," Newt murmurs, gaze far away, "He's never had to leave before... because he's never lost all those times ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... not sure about my pacing but i hope you enjoy ;;

Duel Day.

Newt is worried for two good reasons - for Percival, and for his brother. He can't help but pace until a servant has to have him sit down, and still he fidgets in his seat. His eyes are trained on the dueling ground, a sickening knot in his gut gave him trouble relaxing. Who couldn't relax if the last words he heard his brother say the night before was a question of if he loved the man he was going to face on the same cobbled ground before proceeding to leave him with his thoughts. The sound of the horn startles him - causing him to jump in his seat as a voice announces the arrival of the man he loved - Percival, clad in armor, walks to his side of the dueling ground, a bow to the prince, and he keeps his helmet under his arm, waiting for Theseus to arrive. A second horn announces his arrival, a general fully suited, helmet already on his head - to keep the outside world from seeing him in a state. Theseus faces a day of conflict - in his code, if he loses the duel to a suitor, the only thing left for him is to leave the kingdom -  _banishment._ He never told Newt about this, only that he must duel a suitor either to the death, or into forfeiture. 

He bows to Newt, before turning to face Percival - tired sea foam green eyes blank but dark staring at him through the helmet. An elder has them together in the middle, briefing them that it was indeed either to the death or into forfeiture. They nod, they walk to their sides, they wait. One moment of silence, and the next, the clashing of iron on iron. Newt is on the edge of his seat as he watches two warriors fight it out - one for his hand, and the other keeping it from him. 

_Slash - clang._

Percival's sword makes contact with Theseus' - the blades grinding as his swing pushed the man down on his knees. From behind the mask of the helmet, Theseus grimaces at the pain from an old wound resurfaces and the shin armor digging into his knees. He retaliates by pushing Percival back, causing him to steady himself with his hand going to the ground, his breathing heavy and staggered as he tries to block out the noise from either sides. Jaun - his second - comes over to him as they both take a break.

"What's wrong - he didn't get you, did he?" 

Theseus shakes his head, "Just... j-just an old wound haunting me. It's fine - I'll be fine."

From Newt's seat, he sees his brother struggle and Percival not as much. The prince is on the brink of tears - surely Percival wouldn't kill him, right? And Theseus wouldn't hurt Percival - but all these thoughts kept racing in his mind as he felt tears prick his eyes and he has to look away to keep himself from seeing the mess the traditions of the elders caused. Percival sees Newt look away and his first instinct is to walk over to him, but he's blocked by Jaun who stood up in front of him.

"What's your problem?" He asks, irritated that someone would stop him from comforting his lover.

"The duel isn't over yet, Percival," a voice said from below them, and he looks to see Theseus getting up and taking his helmet off to reveal the tired face beneath, "You don't have the right to go to him - not yet."

Jaun eyes his best friend worriedly, but he steps back for the battle to commence once more. The sound of steel echoes in the courtyard, accompanied by the groans of when the iron blade hit hard onto the armor. The elders watch from the side as a king and a general fight on the old stone. Newt flinches at every time the swords collided and is already crying in his seat. It's all too much for him to listen to - the voices, the sounds of the duel - it was getting louder and louder and it rang painfully in his ear as it went louder still then -

_Silence._

He opens his eyes, brows furrowed in a worried frown before he turns to look at the duel that sounded to have stopped. His eyes immediately spy the crimson splatter on the ground, the liquid gleaming in the fading sunlight. He's mortified to see it - even more so when he sees whose it was.

Theseus stayed there, frozen in place and so was Percival - both men's eyes wide at what had happened. The tip of Percival's blade touched the ground with blood dripping off of it, and Theseus knelt in front of him, his chest grazed and bleeding as his chest plate was torn in the middle. He falls to the ground, vision blurring as the adrenaline in his system making everything numb as Jaun rushes to him. Percival drops his sword and tries to help him but he's dragged to the front of Newt, "Your worthy partner, your Majesty."

Percival is horrified - whiskey-brown eyes wide and scared as he looks at Newt, stammering out apologies. The prince's lower lip quivers as he tries to go to his brother, but is stopped by another elder, "P-please, let me go to him - I can't - I-I can't lose him, h-he's my brother, p-please!"

Jaun fumbles with his armor, removing all of the iron from his tired body. He's starting to black out when he feels cold drops on his skin - it was starting to rain.

 

* * *

 

  _It's too dark._

He opens his eyes to the darkness of the room - the sound of the rain was heard through the thin fabric of the curtains. He was in his room, in a bed, something tight around his chest.

_It's too quiet._

His mind wanders until he remembers what had happened - Percival had won the duel. Percival has rights to go near his brother now - rights to marry him, to be by his side. Theseus knew his time was now limited for the general of the prince must leave the kingdom -  _he was no longer needed._ He stares at the mural on the ceiling of his room; it was the constellation of the southern hemisphere (Newt's room had the north). He studies the delicate lines and strokes, and he sighs, closing his eyes. Gingerly, he places a hand on his chest where the soreness was, only to find a rough sort of fabric. He pulls the blanket off of him, slowly (painfully) sitting up in his bed to find bandages wrapped over his chest - a creamy pale color, almost the same color of his skin due to the loss of blood.

_It's too tight._

He groans, eyes roaming the room for anyone and he bites his lip when he found none. He decides to get out of bed, slowly moving to the edge and stepping out. He slips on his white long sleeved undershirt, taking a loose waistcoat on as well. He sat in front of his desk, taking a quill and a piece of parchment to write his farewell. When he finishes, he takes the wax to seal it - but he doesn't use the crest of the Scamanders. He no longer has any affiliation - this was established when he was briefed of his duties. 

No longer the general, no longer a Scamander, no longer needed.  _Outcast._

Once he the seal dried, he sets to find things of value and importance for him and places them in his satchel - a pouch of coins, a dagger, and bandages. He starts to fix himself up for a journey - tying up his boots, tying on his armbands, and his cloak. He secures a regular sword on his belt, placing it in a scabbard, and leaves his own sword - a sword with the engravings of his family. When he finishes, he takes one last look around the room, and he swallows hard, opening the door to leave. He walks quietly, not wanting anymore attention than needed, not letting his mind wander to his brother or Percival, or his few friends. He doesn't think of the upcoming wedding, the upcoming weeks or months, nor does he think of the possibility that he would be an uncle.

_Outcast. Outcast. Outcast. You have no place here - not anymore._

The rain continues to pour - not as hard as when he woke up, but still it continues on raining. He heads to the elders, ready to sever his ties with the kingdom he had served for six years - the kingdom he was born in twenty-six years ago. 

"General Theseus," one of them started.

"I vow, to the kingdom from which I originated, that I will no longer return - I will no longer be seen or be known to the townspeople of this land, especially to the prince whom I am no longer affiliated with," he responds, tears pricking his eyes.

"And with this, you are banished from the Kingdom of your family," they finish.

He stands up, bowing one last time, before making his way to the stables, picking a horse and he proceeds to head for the castle gates. He's halted by a man at the gates, his hood up to protect him from the rain, and the man hands him a small bag. He opens it to find food and he looks to see who the man was - Jaun.

"Leaving without a proper goodbye, are we?" 

"...I'm not-"

"I know - I know you're not allowed. We'll see each other again, won't we?"

"...if time deems it of any worth - we will, old friend."

"Be careful out there, Theseus."

He closes his eyes before smiling at him, the rain disguising his tears, and he nods at him.

"My name's Helios."

 

* * *

 

Newt was in his room, pacing. He had asked a servant to check on his brother unbeknownst to him that Theseus had already left. Percival was sitting on the edge of Newt's bed - quiet for once. He didn't want to hurt Theseus - sadly his sword said otherwise. He had apologized to Newt countless times after and Newt had no heart to remain angered with him - had forgiven him. A knock on the door breaks him out of his reverie and Newt rushes to the door, "I-Is he awake? My brother?"

"Sire, General Theseus is..."

"What...? W-what happened?"

"He's gone, your Majesty."

"H-he... he's what? What do you mean he's gone?! Where will he go? Why would he leave, he's still hurt!"

"There was no one there, sire. 'Tis as empty and dark as the night."

Newt can't accept this - where would his brother go? Why would he leave? He rushes past the servant and he heads towards his brother's room, tailed by Percival. He's worried of course - he's terrified. He arrives at his brother's door and he knocks, "Thess? Thess, I'm coming in brother."

He swings the door open only to find what the servant said was true - it was empty. Completely devoid of life, swallowed by the darkness of the night. Tears well up in those dark hazel green eyes of his, and he swiftly turns to Percival, sobbing into the older man's chest. Percival himself is dismayed to find the older Scamander's room empty, and he wraps his arms around Newt's shoulders, doing his best to comfort the prince. His whiskey-brown eyes wander the quiet room, finally landing on a sealed piece of parchment on the desk and he nudges Newt when he had calmed down.

"Newt, there's a letter on his desk," he whispers, pointing to the parchment.

Newt hurriedly makes his way to the piece of paper, taking it in his hands - his heart aches to the sight of a blank seal when the crest was right there on his desk. He sits on his brother's bed, and Percival takes a seat beside him, ready to comfort him again if needed. With trembling fingers, he fumbles with the wax seal, opening it and he begins to read.

_"Dearest brother of mine, Artemis,_

_With this letter, I wish to explain to you why I am no longer in the room you found this parchment in. I am not exactly sure as to how I will explain this, since you know by now the rules of the duels held for your past suitors. As the elders have said, the duel is to the death or into forfeiture from either sides. My fall was then considered as forfeiture for I was no longer able to contend. This is not my victory - this is Percival's. As much as I want to be able to be there for you during your wedding, during the years that you will grow up, during the times that you will need me, I am not able to comply, my dear brother."_

_For I have lost. And with this loss, I am saddened to tell you dear brother, that banishment is the only thing in return for me. I wish you all the best for the future with Percival... Remember that your older brother will always love you, Artemis, never forget me,"_ Newt's voice softening - quieting - as he finished it, " _Your brother... Apollo..._ "

"He left?" Percival asks, worried for Newt.

"It was an order... it was in his orders," Newt murmurs, gaze far away, "He's never had to leave before... because he's never lost all those times ago."


End file.
